The Vague Rage of 2019’s Joker

Arthur is an avatar for men who blame the world for their own feelings

The very first frames of Joker fill me with dread. I started watching it because I had heard the score was really good, and I thought — maybe that’s enough to make up for director Todd Philipp’s questionable opinions. I love the aesthetics at least, all those muted reds and yellows and sickly green cityscapes. It’s very clear that the filmmakers intended this city to be a character in and of itself. The doom cello score is fine, but heavy-handed, a sure sign of all the misery about to unfold. The true source of the dread is none other than the emaciated lead actor, Joaquin Phoenix himself. This performance, for which he starved himself, for which he won almost every acting award under the sun, is frustratingly hypnotic. He looks hungry for destruction. I’m transfixed.

The dread I feel quickly evolves into terror. I can’t tell if this movie admires protagonist Arthur Fleck, or condemns him. He keeps doing violent things on screen, and yet the filmmakers are utterly enamored by their creation. They seem very proud of Phoenix’s ‘transformation’ and how committed the actor was to this role. Todd Philips calls his protagonist “a narcissist, but an egoless narcissist”, which I don’t think is a thing? They use the words “mentally ill” a lot, both on and off screen, but the film also specifically says that Arthur has a brain injury, and both those things are so vaguely defined that I don’t think the filmmakers know the difference. Philips even says that Arthur has “a certain romance” to him, because he holds the elevator for his female neighbor. But then Arthur mimes blowing his own head off and stalks her and breaks into her apartment, so I don’t think he knows what romance is.

Arthur is so clearly an explosion in search of a spark. But the filmmakers talk as if they’ve designed someone a little edgy, misunderstood, a victim of circumstance. For them, this is a “fun” challenge, to imagine a person kicked and abandoned by an uncaring world. Phillips told NPR’s Terry Gross that “We really thought it was important to shine a light on the system… I think, like a lot of people, the system’s broken, and why not use a film to make a comment on that?” But I can’t tell which broken system is the target of said comment. I just see a man who invades people’s boundaries and murders people on the subway and pokes his fingers into baby batman’s mouth.

I really looked for portrayals of systemic abuse within the frames of this movie, but there’s mostly just garbage piled high on every sidewalk. In the first thirteen minutes, 3 different offscreen news reports reference a really bad rat infestation, and later when a riot breaks out spontaneously, someone yells at a news crew “Fuck the rich, fuck the whole system, that’s what it’s all about!”. And while his therapist, a black woman, mentions that “they don’t care about you, and they don’t care about me”, no one talks about specifics, like police violence, something that is a real life threat to many who struggle with mental illness. There are a few nods at class struggles, but at no point does Arthur struggle with rent or a predatory landlord, even though these issues were a big part of New York City’s landscape in the 1980’s (the place and time that inspired this version of Gotham). Arthur murders some Wall Street bros after they harass a woman on the subway, but somehow the fallout focuses on their wealth and not street harassment, something that actually mobilizes people, both then and now, to protest in the streets. Race is never addressed either, and though multiple black actors were cast to work alongside Phoenix, they aren’t even named on screen, which makes them “visible, but not seen”, as culture writer Breandrea July so eloquently describes in her essay.

At one point I think the movie must be wrapping up, but actually there’s almost a full hour still to go. The filmmakers say that Arthur is “very controlled”, but the man on screen is becoming increasingly erratic. Arthur certainly says a lot of quotable things, which I guess is enough to resonate with some people. “I have never been happy for one minute of my entire life”, he moans, and also “All I have are negative thoughts”. After committing his first public act of violence, he tells his therapist “My whole life, I didn’t know if I even really existed. But I do, and people are starting to notice.” I honestly can’t tell if this is intended to be ominous or empowering.

The rest of this movie is both shockingly violent, and yet somehow very basic. Arthur learns he’s adopted, and that he and his mom were abused by her boyfriend. This is all framed as something his mother allowed to happen, yet another missed opportunity to showcase how The System punishes victims. When Arthur kills his mother, he is bathed in light, as if he’s done something praiseworthy, or liberating. Is this Arthur behaving “without his mask”? I wonder — do the filmmakers think this killing spree is part of Arthur’s authentic self? After murdering a friend who stops by to check on him, he infamously dances in triumph on the Brooklyn staircase to the song Rock and Roll pt2. What an odd choice — these filmmakers licensed a song written by a convicted pedophile for a movie about a child abuse victim.

To add a cherry on top of this messy sundae, Arthur’s big speech, the part where he rages out at TV host Murray Franklin (Robert De Niro), doesn’t reference anything that’s happened in the movie. He complains about how “you can’t joke about anything anymore”, but until this point no one’s stopped him from telling his jokes, he’s barely done any stand up at all. He screams about how “no one is civil anymore”, how “people are rising up”, and then he just shoots the host. This hollow, unearned act of violence is what basically ends the movie, followed by an implication that maybe the whole thing happened in Arthur’s head. So much for a world grounded in reality.

Arthur’s speech feels like it was written for a different movie. Maybe the Philips was too caught up in Joaquin’s weird dancing, and cut out scenes that would have made this speech make more sense? Or maybe he injected his own frustrations into Arthur’s mouth. “Go try to be funny nowadays with this woke culture,” he infamously told Vanity Fair for their 2019 cover story about Joaquin Phoenix. “There were articles written about why comedies don’t work anymore — I’ll tell you why, because all the fucking funny guys are like, ‘Fuck this shit, because I don’t want to offend you.’” I truly don’t understand what he’s talking about — what articles? since when are comedies not working?? And much like his precious Arthur Fleck, it’s unclear who or what exactly is holding this man back.

Despite my confusion, Philips insists he’s made a meaningful film. He tells Cinemablend “It’s about the power of kindness and a lot of people miss that. … [T]here are other things in the movie like lack of love, the lack of empathy in society, and childhood trauma, but the power of kindness really runs through this film”. Again, I’m just baffled by this, and sincerely don’t know what he could be referencing. Arthur is never kind to anyone, and he lashes out at everyone around him. In the same NPR interview with Terry Gross, Philips says:

“I can’t tell you the amount of emails or messages I got on my Instagram of people talking about what a wonderful depiction of mental illness it is. You know, the thing that seemed to resonate most with people is when Arthur writes in his notebook, The worst part about having a mental illness is people expect you to behave as if you don’t. And that really spoke to people that have it. Because you’re suffering, but you’re not wearing a cast. You’re suffering, but you’re not in a wheelchair. So people think, what’s wrong with you? You’re fine. And I think that really connected and resonated with people in a meaningful way.”

But according to this logic, when Arthur stops masking his mental illness, he kills people, which is — to put it mildly — not super helpful when it comes to removing the stigma around mental illness.

Reading interviews with Philips & Phoenix is more exhausting than the movie itself. I sought out the opinion of some professionals, but as it turns out, there are as many experts ready to praise this representation as there are to condemn it. While this person speaks to the rage and frustration that many disabled people can experience, these two psychiatric doctors point out:

“Portrayals of mental illness in film can perpetuate unfounded stereotypes and spread misinformation. One of the more toxic ideas that Joker subscribes to is the hackneyed association between serious mental illness and extreme violence. The notion that mental deterioration necessarily leads to violence against others — implied by the juxtaposition of Phoenix’s character Arthur stopping his medication with his increasingly frequent acts of violence — is not only misinformed but further amplifies stigma and fear. Studies show this association is exaggerated and people with severe mental illness are more vulnerable to violence from others than the general population.”

On top of all this questionable representation, there are multiple problems with the core structure of the film. Youtuber Jenny Nicholson does a lovely job of breaking them down in her 30 minute video review. She hits the nail on the head when she says “If you want to design a character who kinda just does stuff that doesn’t make sense, that’s fine, but not if they’re the focal point of a character study, cuz then you just don’t have that much of a movie.” Indeed, Philips has offered nothing, both on or off screen, as to what Arthur’s underlying problem is. Still, this movie found an audience. It earned a standing ovation at the 2019 Venice Film Festival, and got multiple nominations all over the globe. The internet is still rife with Joker discussions and memes. And motivated fans will rush to defend the movie against anyone who criticizes it, including one podcast who recorded an 11-hour rebuttal to Nicholson’s review.

If we are to empathize with Arthur, why does Philips make his violence so chaotic, and why is Arthur centred as the only victim of The System, when so many others could share that place? If we are to distrust Arthur’s story, why does Philips not lean into hyper realism, why not show counter narratives for all of his delusions, like he does with the non-existent girlfriend (Arthur goes on a date with his neighbour, and then later we see that he was actually by himself)? So much of the behind-the-scenes content is Todd Phillips and Joaquin Phoenix waxing on about how instinctual and spontaneous their process was. They brag about rewriting scenes on the day of shooting, and how the editing process was so long because every take created a different context for the character. While intuition is a crucial part of any art, so is the interrogation of that intuition. Phillips tells a story about an unreliable narrator who seeks justification for his violence, but because he leaves the motivations so foggy and undefined, he ends up platforming the protagonist’s delusions.

I’m supposed to identify with Joker’s vague, sprawling anger, but instead I feel like I’m staring into a void. Arthur is an avatar for men who blame the world for their own feelings. He embodies the rage that they feel is so righteous. He takes criticism and discomfort as a personal insult, as a justification for revenge. He uses violence, not kindness, to exert control, and in the language of this film, he is rewarded.

Real life actually rewarded Joaquin Phoenix. In multiple interviews, both the actor and director recount how Phoenix ate just an apple a day in order to drop over 50 pounds for this role. They chuckle about it. That reckless stunt earned them multiple headlines and awards, instead of shame and outrage over an employer letting their employee starve for a job. Some of Phoenix’s outbursts on film were not scripted or staged, which is dangerous for anyone else on set, and yet these anecdotes are included in promotional vignettes, like they are worthy of pride.

I don’t think these filmmakers know what it’s like to be followed in the street, to question their own safety in an elevator, to be harassed on public transit. They’ve never had to fight for their own sanity, or to be seen as human and worthy. They’ve never been targeted by the police. This was a fun challenge for them, to imagine living such a precarious existence. Though Arthur, someone who expects unconditional empathy under the threat of violence, is the man of my nightmares, Philips indulges in a fantasy, one where he’s free to ‘werewolf’ out on a society that dares to exist even though his insides are sad.

He made a movie about a violent man. And instead of fearing him, as so many of us must to survive, he fell in love.

BC

Also, Bradley Cooper called Todd Philips an auteur and I can’t stop laughing at his sincerity mustache.

• All screenshots with subtitles were pulled from the vignette Joker | Behing the Scenes with Joaquin Phoenix and Todd Philips published on April 20th 2020 by Warner Bros, Entertainment
• All screenshots without subtitles are from the film Joker (2019)
• IMDB list of awards and nominations for Joker (2019)
• The System’s Broken’ and ‘Joker’ Director Aimed to Explore That On Screen published on NPR on January 6th 2020 by Terry Gross
• In Joker, Black Women Are Visible But They Are Not Seen published on Time on October 11th 2019 by Breandrea July
• Gary Glitter published on Wikipedia
• “I Fucking Love My Life”: Joaquin Phoenix on Joker… published on Vanity Fair on October 1st 2019 by Joe Hagan
• What Joker Is ReallyAbout, According To Director Todd Philips published on Cinemablend on January 6th 2020 by Corey Chichizola
• Joker makes great disability art by letting its hero bite back published on The Guardian on September 27th 2019 by Justin Edgar
• Why Joker’s depiction of mental illness is dangerously misinformed published on The Guardian on October 21st by 2019 by Annabel Driscoll and Mina Husain